That Farewell Hug 聚。散。

Although there was some strange feeling inside of me, I didn’t think I would end up crying. It just didn’t feel like it. We were cool. So cool. Anyway, I’ve done that in my dream the night Mum decided to go for an early departure due to the third anniversary of Dad’s passing, which, traditionally, marks the official ending of mourning.

But, when we embraced each other to say goodbye, some immense sadness suddenly gushed out in a raging torrent of tears. Mum was shaking too, I could feel… I didn’t wanna let go and simply wished I had the magic to turn this embrace into eternity. Because, deep down, I feared that I might not be able to do this ever again.

Thirty-seven months ago, it just happened. And right at this moment, I can still recall the warmth and softness so vividly. That was the farewell hug from Dad, the man of my life. The picture of Dad waving gently at us with a somewhat baffled smile on his face as we slowly drove away is forever etched in my mind. I never knew it would turn out to be our very last hug. It’s even more heartbreaking when Mum recounted how Dad, who was diagnosed of the early stage of Alzheimer’s, mumbled afterwards, “Where’s everybody gone? Why do they have to leave?”

I don’t know why I had to leave. I would give up everything that I ever thought meant anything to me if I could have one moment with Dad. But, the truth is, I not only left but ended up thousands of miles away.

Brother John, who’s been our “chauffeur” throughout the years, sighed during one trip to the airport, “I don’t know how you managed to take it. I know I can’t.”

Well, I never want to take it. I don’t even quite know why the hell I made myself…

But, I suppose that’s just how life works — Accept your responsibilities for what happened and learn something useful from the experience.

Thank you, Summerhill, Beam Beam and Mr Boey, for this opportunity of self-healing. I didn’t have the chance to be the most authentic version of myself until we moved to Leiston.